A Queen’s Morning

(Roselle Vasilyev's POV)

Samuel carried me onto the balcony, gently placing my bare body onto the outdoor bed.

The morning air was cold, brushing against our heated skin, sending a thrilling shiver down my spine.

I looked up at him—his emerald eyes dark with desire, a seductive smirk playing on his lips.

My heart pounded violently.

"Damn you, bastard—Ahhhh!!!"

Before I could finish my sentence, his head was already between my legs.

A sharp gasp tore from my lips as his tongue and fingers worked their magic, making me lose all control.

"Ahhhh!!"

Every shameless moan escaping my mouth only made the sensation more intoxicating.

And at that moment, all I could do was surrender to the pleasure he was giving me.

I released myself again, my moans shamelessly loud, my voice dripping with raw pleasure.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!! Incredible!!!"

Before I could recover, he suddenly turned me around, shifting me into a position I wasn't expecting.

Then—he entered me.

My eyes widened in shock.

"Ah! Ahhh!!!! You bastard!!!" I cried out, gripping the sheets beneath me.

He leaned in, his hot breath teasing my ear as he whispered,

"Oops… wrong entrance."

A shudder ran through me, and I cursed under my breath.

This damn man…

I glared at him, breathless, my body trembling.

"You bastard!!! You did that on purpose, didn't you?!"

But he only smirked, his emerald eyes filled with mischief, and instead of answering—

He thrust deeper.

"Ahhhh!!!" A loud, shameless moan escaped me as my body betrayed me, overwhelmed by the sensation.

I gripped the sheets, struggling to form words, but all I could do was moan as he moved faster and deeper.

Then, he leaned in again, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper—

"Want me to pull it out?"

I turned my head slightly, catching a glimpse of his perfect face, his sharp emerald eyes gleaming with amusement.

Damn him.

I wanted Abigail Bardot to see this.

To see the way he looked at me.

To see how he adored me.

To see that she lost the best man in existence.

I smirked, gripping the sheets tighter as I gasped, "Don't you dare!"

His chuckle was dark, teasing. "Oh? You're that desperate for me, Roselle?"

I clenched my jaw. "Until I'm fully satisfied, you're not cumming anywhere."

If he thought I'd just submit, he was wrong.

I was Roselle Vasilyev.

The Queen of the Mafia. The Lord of Darkness.

And I would make sure we devoured each other completely.

He let out a deep groan, pressing his chest against my back, his arms wrapping around my waist.

The feeling of his hard, sculpted muscles against me sent shivers through my entire body.

And then—

I felt it.

His two heartbeats.

A rhythmic, powerful thumping against my skin.

It was insane. Overwhelming. Addicting.

"Damn you, Samuel…" I gasped, arching my back against him.

His lips grazed my ear as he whispered, "You're trembling, Roselle. You love this, don't you?"

I bit my lip, refusing to answer.

But we both knew the truth.

And I would make sure he knew just how much I wanted more.

Then he slammed into me harder, his movements becoming faster, rougher, completely relentless.

I could feel him ravaging my insides, stretching me in a way that made my body tremble with pleasure.

"Ahhh! Ahh!!! Don't stop—I'm gonna cum!!!"

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke in that low, seductive tone that sent shivers through me.

"Same here… Let's feel it together, my Queen."

"Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!!!"

And then—pure ecstasy.

I felt it. All of it.

It was **so perfect, so right—**as if our bodies were made only for each other.

As the pleasure finally subsided, he lay beside me, pulling me into his arms.

His embrace was warm, strong, unyielding.

The kind of safety and comfort that no one else could ever give me.

And as I nestled into his hold, I realized—

His touch was the only thing that could make me soft.

A few hours later, the warmth of the morning sun touched my skin as I slowly opened my eyes.

The crisp Moscow air brushed against my bare body, and I shifted slightly, feeling the weight of a strong arm wrapped around my waist.

Samuel.

I turned my head slightly, my amethyst eyes landing on his peaceful, sleeping face.

His dark hair was slightly messy, his sharp features relaxed, and for once, he looked almost... calm.

"Tch. Even in sleep, he looks perfect." I muttered under my breath.

I tried to move, but the moment I did, his grip tightened around me.

Without even opening his eyes, he smirked. "Trying to run, my Queen?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I need a shower."

He finally opened his emerald eyes, filled with that familiar amusement. "Need some help?"

I scoffed. "The last time you 'helped' me, we ended up breaking a bed."

He chuckled. "And the second one, too."

My cheeks burned slightly, but I quickly covered it up with a smirk of my own. "Then let's see if you can survive round three."

His grin widened as he pulled me back onto his chest. "Careful, Roselle. You might just make me fall for you."

I smirked, leaning down, whispering against his lips.

"Good. Because you already belong to me."